


Broken Toys

by Jaune_Chat



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bondage and Discipline, Dehumanization, HYDRA Trash Party, Identity Issues, M/M, Object Insertion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-09
Updated: 2020-01-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:41:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22184272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jaune_Chat/pseuds/Jaune_Chat
Summary: Alexander Pierce calls in Grant Ward to correct a listless Asset, a mission neither of them dares to fail.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Grant Ward
Comments: 7
Kudos: 58
Collections: Hydra Holiday Trash Party Gift Exchange 2019





	Broken Toys

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Defiler_Wyrm](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Defiler_Wyrm/gifts).



> This takes place a couple weeks before the events of Captain America: The Winter Soldier and episode 1.17 "Turn, Turn, Turn" of Agents of SHIELD.
> 
> My gift for DefilerWyrm! I hope you enjoy it! :)

_“Garrett says he put a lot of effort into you. I’d like to see if it’s true.”_

Ward stood stiffly correct in front of the door to the interrogation room, taking one moment to gather himself before entering. Of course Garrett had mentioned his friend “Alex” over the years, referring to this or that mission that they’d been on, people they’d met together, places they’d gone, all the usual for his rambling parables. And with the greatest of deliberation, Ward was certain, Garrett had never really bothered to mention that “Alex” was Secretary Alexander Pierce.

_“I need to see you work. This is going to be a very important assignment, and while I trust John’s judgement… Always verify.” Secretary Pierce had added a smooth, politician’s smile to the seemingly innocuous statement._

If Ward could pull this off, it would be a major coup, a big boost up the ladder. He’d be in a position to spike SHIELD’s wheels and take one of their wildcards off the table. That was more than worth the risk of having one of the heads of Hydra breathing down his neck while he worked.

Ward opened the door, stepped, through and closed it behind him again. Pierce would decide whether to let him back out or not. Either way, Ward wouldn’t have to worry about his next career move.

_“You’re not cleared for this, but for John, I’ll make an exception.” The Secretary had nodded at Ward as he gazed through the one-way window. “Your progress has been excellent inside the SHIELD team, but things are aligning soon. One of our prep missions went a little bit awry, and the Asset was damaged. Fix it. Get it functional again. I want it ready to take orders.”_

Hydra already had a way to do that, Ward knew. Whatever half-lobotomized lab experiment they were using for high-profile kills already had Hydra’s hooks in him, embedded deep. But sometimes you didn’t get the instruction manual to your used equipment. You had to learn how to improvise, make do, find out the answers for yourself, and to do it _fast_. This was a test, and Hydra’s tests were never fair.

Ward considered the figure that was strewn over the bare mattress on the far side of the room. Aside from the mattress, there was a table against one wall and a trunk in another corner. Apparently after the last fiasco (whatever it had been) all someone had done was hose the Asset down and locked it in the room. It had minimal bruising and a few minor injuries, but nothing serious other than the cyborged left arm. After Garrett and Deathlok, Ward was no longer awed by that kind of tech, though he respected it and the damage it could do. The Asset was loose-limbed, face slack in sleep, looking as if it hadn’t a care in the world. Comfortable, that was how it looked.

Being in Hydra was anything but comfortable. Purposeful, deliberate, challenging, hard, fulfilling, but not _comfortable_.

Ward checked the chest in the corner of the room and raised his eyebrows at the collection therein. Everything in there had seen hard use before, and all of them were things to provoke some degree of _dis_ comfort. But. Not yet. Ward hadn’t even gotten the measure of the Asset yet.

“Wake up.” Ward gave the words a brisk bark of a drill sergeant, projecting assurance that he would be obeyed. The Asset’s hands bore gun calluses, and a few faint scars from knife fights and gunshot wounds; whatever else it had been, likely it had been in the military at some point. A command like that would reach a soldier even if they were asleep or half-dead.

The Asset’s eyes opened, pale blue or gray in the over-bright light, and blinked up at Ward in confusion. 

“Get up, soldier. Do it, now!”

The Asset sat up, looking up at Ward with wary eyes that widened in pained, uncertain recognition.

“You’re me.”

Ward froze in place as the Asset looked up at him as if he were a missing piece of himself.

“I’ve forgotten…”

Its expression contorted as it tried to bring a thought to the surface. 

“Is this real?”

Ward stared at the Asset and let his mind race for an answer. And paused, trying not to gape. Looking into the Asset’s face, the solution became clear. His respect for Hydra scientists went up several notches, as did his respect for Secretary Pierce for using the Asset now. Sure, the Asset could just be a coincidental lookalike, but not likely, not with the original Captain America walking around as big as life. And what better way to fight against Captain American than with his past? The past was a powerful weapon.

Ward got an idea, and acted on it before memories of his own past could intrude. It wasn’t _his_ past that was important, but the Asset’s. “Stay down. Kneeling position. Don’t move.” He ducked back into the control room, quickly speaking as Pierce raised his eyebrow. “I need a blue military peacoat.” Pierce looked blank for a moment, then chuckled richly. 

“We have just what you need, son.”

Fifteen minutes later, Ward stepped back inside the room, clad in a coat similar to one on display in the Smithsonian. The Asset was still on his knees, but had sat back on his heels, his hands loosely clasping. He straightened up as Ward stepped closer, than froze.

“Sloppy, soldier,” Ward said, shaking his head, making his voice full of disapproval. The Asset looked truly chastised, worried, _invested_ as he hadn’t before. There was also a good measure of confusion, which was helpful. Secretary Pierce had warned him that too much security in its independent actions would only mean a return of undesirable behavior. _“Above all, keep him off-balance.”_

“I need to know… what do I do? I’m… I don’t remember.”

Ward allowed himself a small smile. “You will. You’ve been weak. Using up your strength fighting useless things. Losing your purpose.” Ward looked over the things in the trunk as the Asset swayed, trying to think. He picked up a simple leather strap, not too thick, and wound it idly around his fist.

“You have orders you need to follow.”

“Sir?”

“You didn’t follow orders, and that’s why you don’t remember. You got caught. You took damage. You failed the mission. We’re going back to basics.”

A tiny nod, the Asset’s eyes slightly unfocused as they started at Ward.

“Good. You talk when I tell you. You move when I tell you. You stay where you’re told. Those are you orders. Stand. Hands behind your back, wrists together.”

The Asset straightened up Ward wrapped the strap around its hands, tight against flesh and metal both. Wrists together behind its back, metal plates rubbing against the flesh. It looked uncomfortable, and it’d probably start to chafe before too long. Then cut in deeper. If it struggled too much against what Ward was going to do to him, it’d bleed.

A useful reminder.

Ward had debated using the spreader bar, but that wasn’t how he wanted to go. He didn’t have all damn day to do this (the Secretary’s time was precious, after all), and this was more about getting the Asset to listen, not to show off how many things he knew how to use out of the toolbox. There was a time and a place for showing off weapons’ expertise. And there was a time to just use a few things efficiently.

“This next mission will require a long wait. You’ll need to be concealed. Last mission was sloppy. You need to be reminded how to keep discipline to stay in position if you want to succeed. You want to complete the mission.”

A sharp nod. No words. Good, it’d remember lesson one. Ward had allowed the Asset no compromise, no choice. A good operative obeyed the objective and got it done, but the Asset needed something more rigid.

Ward repressed a little smile.

“Stand straight. Bend at the waist. Place your forehead on the table.” 

The Asset complied stiffly, shoulders straining slightly, legs stretched out, ass on display. Its hole still looked a little abused, but at least it’d been cleaned up properly. Given a memory-compromised, swift-healing, programmable body to a group of power-hungry sadists like Hydra and people _would_ play now and then. He could hardly blame them, not when even the memory of guilt could be wiped out by one of Hydra’s machines. It was an intoxicating thought, and one that sent a sharp thrill through him. Ward nudged the Asset’s feet a little wider and nodded in satisfaction. It was a sharp, precise display, minimalistic and utilitarian.

All the Asset had to do was keep it that way.

“Don’t move. Distractions will occur, but they aren’t to affect your performance. Your forehead never leaves the table until I tell you to. Nothing but your forehead touches the table. Your feet will not move, your knees will not bend.”

A little piece here, a little piece there, assembling a cage of words to get the result he wanted. In a few weeks, he could be putting this kind of thing to the test in the field. Probably against Melinda. Or Skye. The thought sent another electric thrill through him that started to get him hard. Ward stopped himself from flicking his eyes to the window where Secretary Pierce was likely watching them with unwavering attention. 

And if he failed, then Ward would be pressing his head to the table, hands cabled behind his back, right next to the Asset, and Garrett would be the one tying the knots. He wouldn’t let Ward embarrass him in front of “Alex” without a proportional response.

Ward let his breath in and out in a long sigh, trying to ignore the heartbeat in his ears and the throbbing in his groin. The Asset was trembling slightly from the tension, clearly wanting to relax, to move.

They both had missions to complete.

Ward reached in the box for the last tool he needed, flicking his wrist to extend the baton. The Asset gave a full-body flinch that nearly lifted his head from the table.

“Don’t move. You want to do well.” A rap between its shoulder blade, hard enough to knock some of the breath from it. A tap against the vulnerable nerve of its exposed flesh elbow where it would send a river of fire down its hand. Another flinch, and a very quiet gasp. A controlled tap against one ear, barely more than a flick, then a harder strike to the point of its hip before it could recover. A bruise started to bloom, but if what Ward guessed was true, it’d be gone before mission-time.

The shock of pain sent a shiver over the Asset’s body, one Ward assisted by flicking the switch on the end and touching where he’d just bruised. The electric shock made the Asset jump, forehead lifting off the table for a moment, pale eyes staring at Ward before a flash of panic crossed its face.

“Back down, now!” Ward used a simple backhand to reinforce the command. The strike was more noise than pain, more just something to get its full attention. He quickly followed it up with, “I know you are better than this.”

The Asset pressed his face back down upon the table, shivers chasing themselves over its skin. It looked unusually vulnerable, and Ward felt a quickly-dispersed flash of pity for it. Hydra had no room for weakness. What Ward’s own family hadn’t beaten out of him, Garrett and Hydra had.

“You moved. You broke cover. You know what happens if you fail. You get caught. And then the mission is fucked.”

Ward touched the tip of the baton to the vulnerable pucker of its ass and pressed in enough to hurt. The Asset twitched its head from side-to-side slightly, but didn’t lift up. Still, a sign of defiance. Ward flicked the button on the baton briefly, and the Asset howled through its teeth. He pressed in further, the unyielding length pulling on its insides.

It had to hurt like hell, but Ward wasn’t done showing what he could do. He mastered a surge of lust, a memory of dark hair in his fist, and found his own hand gripping the Asset’s too-long hair, forcing its head to be still.

“If you won’t obey, I will _make_ you.”

He shoved the baton in hard, air escaping the Asset’s lungs in a soundless gasp, head still under his hand. 

“You asked me to do this. You know you need it. You want to comply.”

Its hands quivered, rubbing against each other, the flesh wrist raw but not bleeding yet. It abruptly clasped its hands together, ceasing its struggles as Ward pressed in another inch, some of the muscular tension easing as it began to give up fighting for _obeying_.

Ward felt a rush of euphoria as the strength of the Asset bowed itself to his will.

He twisted the baton slightly, rubbing it hard against the Asset’s insides, watching with a slight touch of awe as the Asset remained still, its face silently glistening with fresh tears. Ward was hard against his jeans, but it was better this way. The slight pain was better; watching the Asset _give in_ to Ward’s commands as an inevitability…

The door opened.

Ward didn’t jump only because he still had the Asset under his grip, but let his eyes slide over to see Secretary Pierce standing in the doorway, a more genuine smile on his face.

“Excellent job, Ward. I’ll tell John he still knowns how to pick ‘em. Head on out, son. Your mission continues as planned. Wait for the signal,” he said.

Ward breathed out slowly as he stood straight, leaving the baton where it was. His erection was obvious, but then again so was the Secretary’s, so he ignored any possible awkwardness as he went to the door, and kept his eyes up above the beltline. Secretary Pierce shook his hand.

“Pleasure to watch you work.”

“Just doing my duty, sir.”

Secretary Pierce laughed and waved Ward out, shutting the door again. Behind him, the Asset remained in position, baton sticking out of its ass. No flowery cajolery had been required this time, which played well with Pierce’s mood. He was the one who usually had to twist the Asset’s core values to fit Hydra’s needs, but that hadn’t been needed today.

“Speak your question,” Pierce said, knowing there was something lurking in that still head.

“Did I do well?”

Pierce almost laughed. “Oh, you’ve got your orders clear, son. Ready for your mission?”

“Ready, sir.”

Pierce pulled out the baton and laid it across the Asset’s flat back, knowing it wouldn’t dare let it fall. Then he unbuckled his belt slowly. He’d have to remember to send Garrett a thank-you present for his protégé’s help. After all, every now and then a man just liked to have someone else fix his broken toys.


End file.
